Daddy's Girl
by Lady of the Lost and Found
Summary: Charles Bromley, head of Bromley Marks, is the vampire that has it all. The power, fortune, perks, and all the pleasures of the vampire nation at his beck and call. All except for one. The daughter he lost. But daughters can be replaced.
1. You Are Blessed

**Hello Sportsfans!**

**Sam Neill's character, Charles Bromley, has certainly caught my attention. Big time. The movie just didn't do him justice. So here's my attempt at getting to the bare bones of the Big Cheese of Bromley Marks and answering the question of "what was with the Daddy's Little Girl" syndrome. Enjoy!**

**Happy Reading**

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_It was said that when the vampires first appeared, the humans would be the ones to suffer. They were right. It didn't take long before vampires became the dominate race on the planet. _

_Vampires are everywhere._

_You could not outrun them. You could not hide from them, at least not for long. They would find you. They always did._

_But no one said that they could not be fooled._

_Even the most esteemed of vampires can be led to believe a lie._

**Date: March 12, 2015**

**The Outbreak: 6 Years On**

**Location: Vermont, New England**

The customized Lexus sedan had no issues navigating the sharp twists and turns of the winding two-lane road that snaked through the dense forest that was claimed as the private property of Bromley Marks Pharmaceuticals. Only those with the highest standing within the company ever had the privilege of venturing onto the grand estate that was an isolated oasis of peace, tranquility, and blood sport. It was a place untouched by the grime and clutter of the city. To Charles Bromley, this little slice of heaven was his personal home away from home.

Chopin's _Nocturne_ played softly over the muted speakers as the steady thrum of the windshield wipers kept time. Like most things in Vermont, the rain was as common as the heavy fog that seemed to cling to every undisturbed corner. The heavy cloud formations hung low in the sky, blocking out the sun completely and casting a ghostly grey shadow over the rolling hillsides.

Perfect mid-day driving weather.

Seeing how the weather was working in his favor Charles allowed himself the rare luxury of driving during the day unaided by the day-time automated shielding that all of the company cars were equipped with. There was nothing like daytime driving, especially when one could actually fully enjoy it. Such a rarity was not to be missed.

With his foot firmly placed on the accelerator, Charles allowed himself to smile as the speedometer climbed higher than the state speed limit allowed. The state-of-the-art V10 engine purred quietly under the hood of the sleek black four-door as fat heavy raindrops lashed at the car's highly polished surface, desperate to find a hold as he raced toward his destination. It had been a good while since he last made his way up to the Lodge. Being stuck in a skyscraper of weeks on end had certainly taken its toll on the vampire that was considered to be one of the most influential and important figures in society.

Charles needed a break. A break from his work. A break from the city. A break from all the memories.

A small sigh escaped him as he raised the volume a fraction above the tolerable level. With his keen sense of hearing it was difficult to enjoy the classics as he used to, back before the world had evolved to what it was.

Still, it was Chopin.

Easing back into the leather upholstery, Charles Bromley allowed his mind to wander as his hands instinctively guided the Lexus around the dips and curves in the road. Six years was barely a blip on an immortal's scale of time and yet it felt as if an age had passed since he last cruised the countryside with the great Masters of Music. Alison had always commented on his "old fashion tastes" but even she admitted from time to time that the long-time-dead guys knew how to create a decent tune. The debates that they had shared on the long drives they had taken together were still fresh in his mind. His daughter was one of the few people who knew how to string him along before using his own argument against him. She was always a step ahead of her old man, no matter how hard he had tried to reason with her "new school" logic. Maybe that was the reason why he couldn't get through to her when he had tried in vain to get her to see things as he saw them. Maybe he just couldn't relate. Maybe that was why he had lost her.

Was she still alive? Hiding in some hole in some isolated by-the-wayside ghost town? Fearing the coming of night each and every day, thinking that maybe that night would be her last? Did she think of him? Did she miss him?

Or was she…

"Shit!" Charles swore through his teeth as his natural reflexes moved faster than his mind. The car slid to a jarring halt as his right foot slammed on the brake pedal. He was flung forward before he could brace himself. The seatbelt kept him from being jettisoned through the windshield and had he been breathing, the pressure would have knocked the air right out of his lungs.

Out of pure habit Charles inhaled deeply as he regained his composure. Something had snapped him out of his reverie and that something was standing in the middle of the road.

Frowning deeply Charles eyed the figure that was blocking his way. In the rain he could make out the unmistakable outline of a human form. Whether or not the figure was human remained to be seen but what human in their right mind would expose themselves to the elements wearing…a white full-length nightgown?

"What in the world?" He muttered to himself as he quickly placed the car in park and undid his seatbelt.

"**Warning. Daylight hours still in effect."**

"Oh shut up." Charles growled as he opened the door while the automated computer calmly reminded him of what he already knew. In this weather he could stand out in the rain and do the Charleston and he wouldn't even get the faintest hint of a tan.

"Excuse me!" He called out as he stepped out of his car and turned to face the individual. If the person heard him they didn't show it. The figure stood stock still in the pouring rain, staring off at some random point as if completely dazed and incoherent. Something about this didn't feel right.

Eyeing the surrounding trees on both sides, Charles did a quick sweep of the area with all of his senses engaged. In this weather it would be nearly impossible to smell out any humans waiting to ambush him but his hearing would have picked up on the panicked pitter-patter of a beating heart had anyone been lying in wait. All he heard was the steady hum of the car's engine and what sounded like the hammering of a dying heartbeat.

That was when the figure collapsed.

Ignoring the rain that quickly did its best to drench him as fast as possible Charles slammed the door shut and made his way over to the fallen individual. He took his time though. He had an idea of what was going on but he was still one to take precaution as his first method of action. A vampire could never been too careful. Especially out here in the middle of nowhere.

Taking care to study the situation from every angle, he carefully made his approach. As he came closer he realized what he was seeing. A girl, roughly around his daughter's age, was dying. Not dying. Being reborn. The left side of her nightdress was soaked in blood that seeped from twin puncture wounds in her neck. Her bare arms and legs were already deathly pale and if he hadn't know any better he would have believed that she already dead.

But dead things didn't fight to stay alive.

"Easy now. It'll be over soon." Charles murmured quietly as he carefully lowered himself to the ground, making sure to keep about an arm's length between himself and the girl. A newly turned vampire was unpredictable at best and the last thing he needed was to worsen the condition of his suit.

The girl curled into herself as her muscles contracted and he couldn't help but note her vain attempt to fight off the inevitable. It would hurt less if she relaxed and accepted the change but humans were a very stubborn breed.

"Don't fight it. Just let it happen." His words fell on deaf ears as the girl whimpered in pain. Her joints were beginning to lock and soon her heart would stop beating all together. The feeling of vigor mortis was an unsettling one but thankfully it never lasted more than a few moments or so. Soon she would be a welcomed member of a race far superior than any that had existed before and life as she knew it would never be the same again.

Dying was a good thing.

Yet the girl didn't seem to think so.

Moving with a speed that startled him, the girl lashed out and grabbed his left arm in an iron grip. She pulled herself upward and for the first time he could make out her profile under the dark curtain of wet hair that clung her to neck and shoulders. Her small features and fragile complexion reminded him of an early twentieth-century flapper but her eyes were what held his interest. Such innocent eyes. The eyes of a child in a young woman's body. The eyes of a daughter. _Alison._

"D-d-don't…leave…" Her words came out in a faint whisper but he still managed to make them out. She never blinked as she locked her gaze with his.

"I…" Charles stammered as he was drawn in by the pull of her eyes. The iridescent baby blue colour was too vivid to be considered normal by human standards but they matched his golden gaze with a will stronger than her shivering frame seemed to hold.

Her grip on his arm tightened.

"Please."

It was the look that did it. Those piercing eyes, filled with such uncertainty, seemed to look right through him and see him for what he really was. For the first time in his immortal life Charles felt something pull deep within in. As if his heart had started to beat again for a split second. It was a twinge of sympathy.

"Hold on." He didn't think of what he was doing. He just reacted to an impulse that he thought had died along with his human side. Taking her hand firmly in his he gently pried her fingers off his arm and shrugged out of his suit jacket. It was soaked through but it was better than nothing. Wrapping it around the girl's quaking body Charles tucked her into the garment and easily picked her up off the ground as if she weighed little more than air.

Super strength, another perk of being one of the undead.

"Immortality is a miracle. You are blessed." He said as he carried her over to the waiting Lexus. The only response he got was a half-choked sob as her body bucked violently in his arms before going totally limp. Well, the worst was over. As he reached for the door handle something totally unexpected happened.

The girl retched the contents of her stomach all over him.

He should have seen that one coming.


	2. Rise and Shine

**Greeting Sportsfans!**

**Instead of writing epicially long chapters that would make me want to rip my eyes out and eat them, I've decided to try cranking out smaller chapters. I want to try to get a real sense of the character without pulling a Shakespeare and writing an insanely long-winded soliloquy about the hows and whys of the world. And Sam Neill doesn't need long chapters because Sam Neill gets the job done quickly. Yeah...I love Sam Neill. What can I say? The man's a man's actor.**

**Happy Reading!**

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"I'm telling you Brian I don't know who she is or where she comes from. She's not part of my game stock. But that's not the point here. You're my Head of Security. I want to know _who the hell has been hunting on my property!_ No, I'm not overreacting. Damn it Brian I want answers and I wanted them five minutes ago. Do not give me half-assed excuses or you'll find yourself back on night watch before the sun goes down. Oh, is that right…well I don't care if you have to use half the staff to go over the parameter records. I want every inch of this place checked over and the culprit found. And when you find him Brian, and yes you will find him, I want him brought here. I'll deal with it."

Charles Bromley stood with his back facing the crackling fireplace that dominated the center of the open concept den as he ripped the proverbial strip off of his security chief. Miles may have separated them but he knew how to take a vampire down a few notches with the right choice of words. An interloper had trespassed onto his personal hunting territory and like hell was he going to let this one slide. There was hell to pay for this insolence and he was going to be the one to dish it out in heaps.

Charles Bromley was not someone to be crossed.

"You've got three hours. You better come up with something or start looking for a new job. I'm being unreasonable? Oh really?" Without another word Charles snapped his cell phone shut and tossed it onto the solid granite table-top that served as a coffee table. He had known Brian McCabe for six years and in six years the man still managed to get on his nerves.

"Why is it always me?" He muttered to himself as he bit back a yawn that threatened to unhinge his jaw. Glen Miller and his orchestra played softly in the background but even those nostalgic tunes couldn't snap him out of his irritation.

Who the hell would have the nerve to feed on his land?

Someone who had a death wish, that's who.

A deep growl of annoyance tickled the back of his throat as he glanced down at his wrist-watch and eyed the time. Damn, it was already mid-afternoon. He was no stranger to pulling all-dayers but when he was at the Lodge the last thing he wanted was to be bothered. And this was bothering the hell out of him.

Massaging his temples, he could already feel the beginnings of a pounding headache, Charles closed his eyes for a moment and centered himself. The girl needed to be dealt with first. The trespasser could wait until evening.

Two hours had passed since he had arrived at the Lodge and in that time the girl had been dead to the world. It wouldn't be long now. When she awoke he was going to have his hands full. Newly turned vampires were always problematic at the beginning. God, he didn't need this. Not today.

"_You're nobody 'til somebody loves you  
You're nobody 'til somebody cares.  
You may be king, you may possess the world and it's gold,  
But gold won't bring you happiness when you're growing old."_

Charles just shook his head as Old Blue Eyes and Judy Garland sang out from the antique 1920's dial radio that sat snugly up against a wall next to the bar. At least Frank still had it going for him. That man would have made one hell of a vampire.

"I need a drink." He grumbled to himself as he made his way over to the bar and grabbed a brandy glass off the top racks before he opened the well-stock bar fridge and pulled out an unlabeled wine bottle. Rolling up the sleeves of his dress-shirt Charles made his way back to the fireplace and sunk down into the dark leather three-seater that faced the open flame before he poured himself a large helping of 0+. Full body, female, mature, there was really nothing finer.

The tension eased out of his shoulders as he knocked back half the glass and savored the taste. Just what the doctor ordered.

Now, what was he going to do with the girl? She couldn't stay. He had no time to play nursemaid for used goods. Yet he wasn't about to throw her out in the middle of the night. He may be a soul-sucking fiend but he did have his scruples. No, she was his responsibility for the time being. There were foundling homes in the city for teenaged vampires that had no family ties. He would send her there. Out of sight, out of mind. But first, he would question her. He wanted to know who had turned her and why.

In order to do that, she had to be fully functional and awake.

He poured himself another glass and drained it before he plucked the bottle off the table top and headed for one of the many hallways that crisscrossed the large mansion. He had placed her in one of the guest rooms on the ground floor. Somewhere that was easy to access and secured from the threat of daylight.

His footfalls went unheard as he padded silently toward the locked bedroom and dialed in the access code into the keypad that was embedded into the wall by the door. Extra security for the guest of course. The Lodge was a vampiric stronghold and nothing short of an atomic blast would ever compromise its security. Charles could never be too careful.

When he heard the lock release he slowly eased open the door and stepped into the darkened room. The single bedroom had been tastefully decorated by one of the interior designers that he had hired years ago to furnish the place. Simple, elegant, and practical. He was happy to note that it had remained that way. Nothing had been ripped off the walls or destroyed. A good start so far.

Once in the room he closed the door behind him and made his way over to the figure that was lying deathly still beneath the covers of the large queen sized bed that stood off to one side. She was still asleep. He took note of the fact that the covers did not move. There was no rise and fall of her chest which meant that the transformation process was complete. Now it was time to wake her to a life of new opportunities.

Taking care not to disturb the girl, Charles placed the wine bottle on the night stand and carefully eased himself onto the side of the bed. He reached forward and placed his index finger on the side of her neck. No pulse. He moved quickly as he lifted the eyelid of her right eye and inspected the colour of her iris. Pure feral gold. When he gently lifted her upper lip he saw that her gums were a pale pink and that her fangs had come in perfectly. Small, curved, and lethal. She had made the change without a single physical mishap.

Now it was time to see what her mental state was.

He grabbed the wine bottle by its neck and placed his thumb over the mouth. He turned it over once, soaking the pad of his finger with the thick viscous liquid, and placed the bottle back on the table. It was best to start things off slowly in order to keep the shock factor at bay. A rough start could mean problems adjusting down the line. Taking care to make his actions as slow and subtle he passed his thumb against her lower lip, smearing the blood across her mouth as neatly as possible.

He did not have to wait long for her to awaken. In fact he did not have to wait at all. Her reaction was instantaneous.

She let out a small groan as her tongue darted out and tentatively tasted the blood on her lips. The taste was foreign but instinct quickly overrode caution as she lapped at the blood, growing bolder as consciousness began to take hold.

Charles smiled when she opened her eyes for the first time and peered up at him with a look that was not unfamiliar. Those bright golden eyes held only one question in them and Charles was more than happy to give her the answer she sought. Picking up the wine bottle once more he held it to her lips, careful not to spill any of the content onto the white down-filled comforter, as she quickly took to the bottle with out any qualms. She wasn't the squeamish sort. She was simply hungry.

"Welcome to the world. And who might you be?"


	3. Caller Unknown

**Greetings Sportsfans!**

**Sorry it's been awhile. I've been meaning to come back and update the story sooner but life got in the way. Anywho here's the next chapter! What can I say, Sam Neill kicking ass in a business suit is something I could not pass up. Go Sam Neill!**

**Happy Reading**

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Abigail.

Her name was Abigail.

Charles arched an eyebrow as he sat in front of the crackling fire pit, deep in thought. The soft ticking of the antique grandfather clock in the main foyer provided a soothing backdrop to the thoughts that were buzzing in his skull. His foundling had turned out to be something of a puzzle.

When he had asked her for her name, she had answered him with a look of confusion.

Name? What name?

Charles had pressed on.

Deeper probing had uncovered the truth that he sought even if the girl had been resistant to dredging up any sort of knowledge pertaining to her human life. Past trauma perhaps? Something had to have happened before her turning in order to cause the gaps in her memory. What was it she was trying so hard to forget?

He did not know. An hour of ceaseless questioning had only given him more questions than answers. Her name was Abigail, she was originally from Seattle, she had been on the run for the last four years, she had no idea what she was doing in Vermont. She could not tell him who had turned her. Or would not tell him. Charles was still unsure about that fact. Something didn't feel quite right.

And then she had asked him a question that had shaken the foundation of his carefully cultivated demeanor. She had asked him about his daughter.

Charles frowned as the clock struck eight.

How on earth could she have known about Alison? Any information pertaining to the issue of his daughter and her disappearance had been carefully covered up. As far as the public was concerned, Alison had died tragically in a car accident not three months after the start of the Outbreak. She was gone before the medical personnel could get to her. A private ceremony had been held in which an empty coffin had been interred and the memory of Alison had been laid to rest. Charles had made a point of it that the subject had reached the proper news channels and publicists. He did not want to have any loose ends to worry about and had made sure to cover his tracks. How would it look to the vampire nation if the head of one of the biggest international blood farming pharmaceutical companies happened to have a rouge human daughter?

It would be bad for business.

So then how did this newly turned vampire who had randomly shown up out of the blue know about Alison?

Was it that she knew Alison personally? Was his little girl still alive?

"Damn questions." He growled under his breath as he lifted his glass off the granit table top and drank deeply. This was going to take some time to sort through. Hell it would probably take him all night. Great.

Charles was not amused.

Closing his eyes for a brief moment, Charles allowed the subtle numbing sensation of the rich blood wash over his senses. Enjoying a glass now and again was great for keeping the nagging hunger pains at bay but after two bottles of the expensive stuff, Charles knew that he had reached his limit for the day. He wasn't one to give into overindulgence often. He also wasn't a heavy drinker to begin with and a little too much made him careless and sloppy. That was something he could very well do without.

A soft sigh escaped him as he shook his head and focused his attention on the crackling flames that danced in front of him. What he needed was some serious down time. No outside issues that needed his attention. No meetings with forgein investors looking to cap on the Bromley Marks Enterprise. No dealing with Henry Marks, co-founder and chair of the company and the daily bane of Charles' exsitence as far as he was concerned. No, he could certainly do without thinking about that cut-throat for a few days.

"Too damn quiet in here." Charles tossed back the remainder of the blood in his glass and hoisted himself to his feet. Swallowing hard he quickly shed his black paisley tie and undid the first two buttons of his white dress shirt. It was about time he got himself out of that damn suit and into something a little more rustic.

Stretching hard Charles flexed his shoulders until he felt his shoulder blade pop before he picked up the empty bottle and wineglass and placed them ontop of the bar. The soft strains of an old blues song purred out of the radio, making Charles feel a little depressed as the clarinet warbled a refrain. With the sun setting soon, Charles wanted to listen to something with a little more nightlife in it.

Hmmm, what was on the dial at this time of the day?

After fiddling with the radio for a moment he found what was he looking for.

The Righteous Brothers.

Of course.

"_Girl, I can't let you do this  
Let you walk away  
Girl, how can I live through this  
When you're all I wake up for each day?"_

"Baby, you're my soul and my heart's inspiration. You're all I've got to get me by. You're my soul and my heart's inspiration. Without you baby, what good am I?" Charles quietly sang along as he quickly washed the glass and set it to dry on the glass racks while the bottle vanished beneath the countertop.

There was nothing that set Charles at ease like some good old fashion music. Not that ceaseless racket that the vampire youth of today called quality sound.

With his attention elsewhere, Charles didn't notice a pair of golden eyes that peered timidly at him from out of the shadows of an agacient hallway. A delicate white hand appeared as it touched the wall but the apparition vanished suddenly when Charles' cell phone began to virbate loudly.

Finally. It took Brian long enough to get back to him. Now he would get some of the answers he wanted.

Charles wiped his hands dry with a dish rag and snacked up the phone.

_Caller Unknown._

Charles paused for a moment as the sleek black phone buzzed in his hand. He had expected to see Brian's name listed on the caller ID. Maybe he was calling from one of the undisclosed numbers that the office had set aside for important calls that needed to avoid going on record.

"Brian it took you long enough and I hate having to wait when the answers I want are so readily available. Tell me what the hell is…." Charles barked into the phone but instead of the usual excuses that were lined up for him all he got was an earful of static.

"Brian?"

Static.

What the?

Silently a shadowy form flitted across the room, avoiding the vampire's line of sight before it vanished in a corner.

Charles knitted his eyebrows together in a deep frown as he lowered the phone and eyed the Unknown Caller.

Something didn't feel right.

Had it not been for the tell-tale squeak of a loose wooden floorboard Charles would never have known what had hit him. Maybe it was luck, maybe it was fate, but for some reason the floor had decieved his attackers best attempt at attacking the vampire without being noticed.

Charles snarled in surprised as a black-clad figure crashed into him from the side and the two of them went flying across the room, colliding into the far wall. Tasteful paintings of the countryside rattled on impact as his attacker tried to bash his skull open against the fortified wooden wall.

Fangs bared, Charles' golden eyes blazed in anger as he lunged and sunk his fangs into his attacker's exposed neck, getting an unearthly shriek in response. His attacker wasn't human. It was vampire. And it wasn't alone.

Before Charles could inflict some serious damage on the other vampire a pair of hands grabbed his ankles and yanked him off. Exposed and unable to get to his feet Charles let out a snarl that would have sent a lesser vampire running for cover. Instead his attackers just doubled their efforts. Before he knew what was happening Charles was bodily picked up off the floor and thrown clear across the room once more, crashing head first into the bar, sending shattered glass flying every which way.

This was not good.

Charles didn't have the time to wipe the blood out of his eyes before his attackers were upon him again. This time he was ready for them.

Knowing full well that he would be a perfect target if he stayed where he was, Charles launched himself over the bar with a full-throated roar and came down on the head of one of the attackers like a thunderbolt. Fangs flashed and blood sprayed as he ripped into the figure's hooded face without mercy. The vampire flailed beneath him as Charles dragged the figure toward the fireplace with every intention of tossing the son of a bitch into the flames. Realizing what was going on the vampire struggled like mad in an attempt to break free of Charles' iron grip around its throat. It was no use. Charles' blood was up and he had his nails hooked into the vampires neck. The more the vampire struggle the harder Charles gripped. It wasn't long before his hands were soaked in blood.

However the vampire's partner was one step ahead of Charles and a heavy blow to the back of the head made him see stars. Going down he landed on top of his opponent while his other attacker closed in from behind, a solid wooden stake raised firmly above him. Instinct screamed at Charles to move out of the way but his body was too slow to respond. The blow to the head had scattered his senses and he had become the perfect target for the black clad figure standing above him.

Gritting his teeth Charles braced himself for the killer blow.

"_EEEEEeeeaaaaarrrgh!"_ A gut-wrenching squeal came from the would-be executioner right before the vampire erupted into a ball of flames. Charles covered his head with his arm and rolled off the vampire beneath him as the figure stumbled forward in a blind panic. Hauling himself away from the flaming menace he crawled to his hands and knees in time to see the flailing figure disintegrate into a pile of charred splinters and smoking ashes.

Now, now was his chance! Move it Charles!

Moving with speed born of desperation Charles snatched up the wooden stake that had been dropped by the deceased vampire and pinned the second vampire beneath him, keeping the lethal wooden point pressed into the vampire's chest, right over the heart.

He had the vampire trapped. There was nowhere to go.

"Who sent you! WHO SENT YOU!" Charles bellowed as he applied more pressure to the stake, making the vampire beneath him buck. Baring his fangs in sheer annoyance Charles wrenched the black hood off the vampire in order to get a good look at him.

Sporting some sort of black tribal tattoo over the crown of his shaven head, the vampire was anything but the usual run of the mill bloodsucker. An ugly burn mark that never quite healed properly marred the left half of his face, giving him a gruesome appearance that Charles would not forget.

The vampire was a mercenary, a fangs-for-hire. Charles knew the type. He had employed them in the past and knew how effective they were at getting the job done.

The vampire wasn't going to talk. They both knew it.

While all this ran through Charles' mind, the vampire decided to make his move. Wrenching a knife out of his boot, the vampire slashed at Charles in order to drive him back and make a break for it. Charles was up on his feet as the vampire bolted across the room. Gripping the stake in his right hand Charles flung his arm back and launched the deadly missile straight at the fleeing vampire's back. The mercenary never knew what hit him before he went out in a flaming heap.

Not many people were aware that Charles pitched for his college team back in his younger years. It would seem that he had not lost his edge after all this time.

Charles carefully felt his forehead for the gash above his left eye. The wound was already scabbed over and had stopped bleeding. A little overindulgence had paid off after all. He gave the den a quick once-over, taking note of the damages. Furniture was smashed, a few art pieces were going to have to be replaced, and the bar was a wreck. Yet not of that really mattered. What he wanted to know was how those two managed to get in without tripping the alarms.

He brushed his disheveled hair away from his face and glanced down. His hands were coated in blood, his clothing was torn and even without a reflection he knew he must look like someone who had just come out of a war. This was not what he had in mind when he wanted to get away from it all for a couple of days.

Ah hell, he needed a drink.

Ignoring the fragmented glass that crackled underfoot Charles picked his way around the upturned furniture and headed straight for the refrigerated blood rack. What he saw hiding behind the bar made him stop dead in his tracks.

The girl, Abigail, was curled up in a ball, rocking back and forth cradling her scorched hands to her chest.

Charles frowned as he took stock of what he was seeing. The burn marks on her hands clicked in his head and after glancing at the crackling fireplace, he realized what had happened. During the fight the girl must have grabbed one of the flaming logs and used it to set his attacker aflame, thereby saving his neck at the risk of her own. Had the fire gotten ahold of her she would have been incerated within seconds.

She had saved his life. A newborn vampire.

Well, that was something he did not experience every day.

"Are you alright?" He asked as he moved toward her.

Abigail whimpered as she tensed her shoulders in an attempt to become as small as possible.

"It's okay. Everything's fine now. They're gone." He said gently as he lowered himself to the ground in front of her. "Here, let me see."

"No." The girl shook her head and pressed into the corner in order to hide her hands from view. Her black hair hid her face but Charles could tell that she was crying. Her bloody tears were dripping off her chin.

"I know it hurts and I can make it better. You're going to have to trust me. It's all right. I promise." Charles said as he reached over and carefully laid his hand on her shoulder. Abigail flinched under his touch but when Charles didn't remove his hand she slowly turned and glanced at him. Thin red streaks ran down her face, contrasting with the bright gold of her eyes. Charles had to stop himself from brushing her tears away, just as he would when Abigail would come to him with tear-filled eyes and a scraped knee.

"Promise?" She asked him in a quavering voice as she gingerly showed him her shaking blistered hands, burned a bright shiny red that clashed with the alabaster tone of her skin. It was painful to look at.

"Of course."


End file.
